


Reality vs Fantasy

by queensusan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Sexual Situations, Barebacking, Bottom John, First Time, Foot Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Podfic Welcome, Rough Sex, Top Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensusan/pseuds/queensusan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has been dreaming of this moment for months and he knows exactly how he wants it to go.  Unfortunately for him reality doesn't always go as smoothly as fantasy- good thing he has John to keep things moving in the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality vs Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> This is the delightfully awkward virgin Sherlock sex scene I always wanted to read so I just wrote it for myself. It is filthy porn with next to no plot but my fandom friends have encouraged me to dust of my collection of private wank material- er, I mean previously unpublished fanfiction and make it public. If you enjoy this please let me know- comments are the number one way to get writers to write more, you know!

John knew that Sherlock was going to pull away soon- he could feel it in the heaviness of Sherlock's breath and the tension in his thighs. He could feel Sherlock's erect cock blatantly pushing up against his loose, silky pajama trousers when it accidentally brushed against his thigh and he could even see the pre-ejaculate that turned a perfect circle of the silky fabric from red to maroon. 

He also knew that the second his hand got too close to Sherlock's cock, it was over. Sherlock would shoot off the couch like a frightened rabbit and flee to his room, presumably to wank and then sulk, not to be seen again for hours. John knew from experience that addressing the subject, no matter how delicately, would result in Sherlock completely ignoring John for days until John gave up and stopped trying to talk about the situation like a sensible adult. Only then would Sherlock shyly draw closer to John, cornering him in the kitchen to stare at him intensely or loiter in his open doorway while John was in bed and bite his lip longingly before skulking off. And then, when it seemed Sherlock could resist no longer, he'd press John into the couch and snog him until the arousal seemed to overwhelm him and he'd dash off to his room and the cycle would begin again.

He'd learned the only way to accept Sherlock's fumbling sexual exploration was just to take what he could get and not say anything. At all. He liked to think that eventually they'd work their way to more, but with Sherlock it was hard to tell. He seemed both irresistibly drawn to John and yet repulsed by his own reactions, as though his sexuality were some sort of weakness his transport was falling victim to against his control. 

So when Sherlock's hips began to thrust against John's hip almost of their own volition and Sherlock broke off kissing John to gasp in his ear, John was too surprised to do anything but hover his hands around Sherlock's back and be silently thrilled beyond words.

"John," Sherlock mumbled, his fingers now digging into John's shoulders like claws and his cock stabbing against John's side. “I tried- I tried to ignore it...” Sherlock moved so that he was straddling John's hips and then he really grew excited as he pressed into John's soft middle. John had the unfortunate mental image of a dog humping someone's leg and only managed to choke back his snort of amusement when Sherlock let out a long, tortured groan in his ear.

"God, Sherlock," John said in delighted surprise, unsure if he was allowed to touch him or not. It seemed unwise, given past experience, so he just let Sherlock grind against him and felt both turned on and a little strange as well- particularly when Sherlock seemed to be enjoying it so much, grunting and squirming against John's stomach while John sat frozen like a piece of furniture, too afraid to touch his best friend back. 

John cautiously slid his arms around Sherlock's waist, holding him gently while Sherlock shook and thrust, and that's when he knew he'd made a mistake. Sherlock froze with his dick crammed against John and his breathing stopped altogether. John silently berated himself and wondered if he'd remove his arms if Sherlock would continue. Before he could decide, Sherlock spoke, something that very rarely happened during these situations. "John, I want to fuck you."

John blinked. "I- yes, of course. Like this, or-? That is... do you mean..."

Sherlock drew away enough for John to see his face. His cheeks were red and his eyes slid off to the side, not meeting John's gaze, but his lips were set and determined. "I mean I want to anally penetrate you until I orgasm, John. That is what I want."

John's jaw dropped. Of all outcomes he'd expected, this hadn't even been in the top ten. For someone who'd been so incredibly reticent, the statement seemed astonishingly vulgar. "You've, er, done that before?" he asked tentatively, because, quite frankly, if Sherlock wasn't a virgin or at least very inexperienced then he'd eat their Union Jack pillow.

Sherlock scowled at him. "Of course I haven't, John. But I know what I want. I want to fuck you."

John shot a glance down at Sherlock's crotch, where his cock stood out stiffly. The splotch of wetness staining the silk had grown. He didn't know how to tactfully tell Sherlock that he really doubted he'd last even through preparing John.

"I really want to suck you," he said, trying for a distraction. He carefully slid his hands from Sherlock's waist and down to the slight swell of his hips. "Fuck my mouth, Sherlock," he purred, but though Sherlock's mouth parted and a deep breath was expelled from between his swollen lips, he shook his head.

"I've been thinking about this for months. I want to fuck you. Without a condom." The last was added petulantly, as though even he knew he was being unreasonable.

John sat up a little straighter, frowning now. "No."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "We're both clean. You're very careful and I know you haven't had sex since your last test anyway and Mycroft forces tests on me every few months." John set his jaw and Sherlock hurriedly continued. "You know I'm clean, John, I wouldn't risk your health. I probably have the results somewhere..." When John still didn't look convinced Sherlock set his hands on John's shoulders and gave him that beseeching look that John still had a hard time resisting. 

John sighed gustily. He hated to admit it, but he was being swayed. He'd never had unprotected sex in his life, but if he was being honest with himself he was fairly convinced what Sherlock said was true. And there was a certain edge to the risk that he couldn't deny; a thrill that ran up his spine at the hint of danger. 

Sherlock seemed to know he'd won. A triumphant smile lurked around his lips. “John, I've waited so long and I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." Sherlock went in for the kill. "This is how I want to lose my virginity."

John couldn't help but feel the last was laying it on a bit thick, but it was still rather flattering. And besides, it was hard not to grant the request of a thirty five year old virgin, especially when John adored said virgin. John sighed in resignation. "This is idiotic and I should know better, but- fuck, alright. Where do you want me?"

Sherlock gave a little wriggle of delight at getting his way and crawled off of John. "On the bed, face down," he said without hesitation, and John lifted his eyebrows but complied, walking past Sherlock and heading for his bedroom. When he began to crawl on, however, Sherlock huffed behind him. "Take your clothes off, John," he said, as though John were an idiot.

John turned around so Sherlock couldn't see him roll his eyes. Clearly foreplay wouldn't be playing a large role in this encounter. He was cheerful enough, though, especially when Sherlock wasn't quite able to suppress his whimper when John shucked off his trousers and bent deliberately to give Sherlock an explicit view of the goods. John climbed onto the bed but when he remained on his knees and hands Sherlock interrupted again.

"John, on your stomach. That's how I imagined it."

John was beginning to think that Sherlock hadn't been joking when he'd claimed to have plotted out the scenario thoroughly, but he didn't really mind, especially when Sherlock hastily tore off his pajamas and scrambled up behind John.

Sherlock was looking down at John's arse like it held the secrets of the universe. John turned to get a look at what was about to be shoved inside him. Sherlock's prick was long and sturdy and it was purple with blood and wet with pre-cum. There was no way this was going to last.

"You have lube, right?" he asked and Sherlock reluctantly looked up at him. 

"Yes, yes, of course," he murmured distractedly and reached over John to rummage in his bedside table. He withdrew a small bottle. The plastic was still on it and John could see that Sherlock's fingers were trembling as he worked at the seal and then poured some on his fingers.

"I don't need much prep," he said kindly, knowing that Sherlock probably couldn't handle much build up and wouldn't last long anyway, most likely not even long enough for John to be properly sore. Sherlock's fingers hesitated on John's rim, caressing and pushing gently until two fingers slid inside John's hole. It was a stretch but given his level of arousal it was not painful and Sherlock seemed to know what he was doing; John moaned when Sherlock's long fingers curled and hit his prostate unerringly. "Ohh," he groaned, shifting his hips and rubbing his dick against Sherlock's slick, silky sheets. That wasn't bad, that. Sherlock, inexperienced but nevertheless observant, rubbed faster.

"Christ, yes," he hissed and his hips lifted up a little to assist in finding the right spot that was somewhere between too intense and just right. "Done that to yourself, haven't you?"

"John, I have fingered myself and imagined it was you many times," Sherlock said sincerely, and then pushed in a third finger a little too quickly.

John let out a startled yip. "Bloody hell, Sherlock, warn me next time!"

"Alright," Sherlock agreed pleasantly. "John, I'm about to put my penis inside you."

"Sherrrrlock," John groaned, not even sure if he was ready for this but wildly turned on anyway. Sherlock withdrew his fingers and he heard him snap open the bottle of lube to presumably slick up his cock. Sherlock shifted behind him so that John's thighs spread around his lap and his arse was pressed back against him. John clutched at his pillow, bracing his elbows on the mattress for what he felt sure was about to be a tentative, inexperienced fuck.

"Ok, ok, ready?" he murmured, thinking Sherlock might be nervous. He probably should have expected it, but somehow Sherlock pushing hard against his hole and shoving straight in hadn't even been on his radar. John shouted and shot a hand to catch the headboard to keep from being slammed against it. "Stop!" he yelled and Sherlock, to his credit, did, though John could feel him trembling almost violently where his hips were pressed against his body. "Get the fuck out of me," John snarled through gritted teeth. "Slowly." 

Sherlock did as he was told, withdrawing gingerly and then scuttling backwards on the bed, away from John. John collapsed onto his stomach, breathing hard, his arse on fire and tears prickling the corners of his eyes while fury built up inside him.

"That didn't go the way I expected it to," Sherlock said forlornly behind him and John chanced a glance around. Sherlock looked very red and ruffled, but also gratifyingly distressed- hopefully he was genuinely upset he'd hurt John. 

John's anger softened a little. Sherlock didn't really know what he was doing anyway, and John had told me he didn't need much preparation, so it was as much his fault as Sherlock's. And expecting basic manners from Sherlock was probably overly optimistic, especially given how well John knew him. 

John sighed around a reluctant smile. "No shit, Sherlock," he said, but not unkindly. "It hurts when a fucking great prick gets shoved up your arse like it's a battering ram."

Sherlock's lips pressed together and his face got redder. John turned slowly onto his back and jerked his chin. "C'mere." When Sherlock hesitated, looking a bit like a deer poised to take flight, John stretch out a foot and lightly kicked Sherlock's knee. "Now."

Sherlock blinked in surprise at John's unexpected commanding tone of voice but he complied, crawling forward between John's spread legs and kneeling. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, and John understood that this time, their first time at least, Sherlock needed guidance. 

He snapped his knees shut sharply around Sherlock's hips, making the taller man jolt in surprise and look down at John with very wide eyes. "I know you've had some elaborate scenario planned for months Sherlock, and we'll do that soon. But we're doing things my way tonight."

John was almost positive Sherlock looked relieved and he felt a flush of fondness. He had no doubt, given Sherlock's forceful personality, that soon enough Sherlock would be calling most of the shots in the bedroom, but for now he was going to enjoy this uncertain, inexperienced version of his best friend.

He let his knees fall apart so that his legs were spread lewdly. "Suck me," he ordered huskily. "Get me hard again."

Sherlock fell to it with alacrity, dropping right down between his thighs with his red, plump lips open and seeking out John's half hard erection. He mouthed sloppily at the head before sinking down, taking too much and choking around his mouthful. John put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from going too deep, but he secretly had to admit it was hot, watching Sherlock's perfect mouth struggle on his fat cock. It was too much for him, but John found himself feeling a little vindictive when Sherlock's eyes brightened with reflexive tears. Sherlock moaned anyway, shoving his mouth on and off John's rapidly growing prick with obvious pleasure. 

Sherlock's cock hung heavy and throbbing between his legs, and John shifted his foot to rub against it, making Sherlock flinch in surprise but look up at John pleadingly. Grinning, John dragged his heel against Sherlock balls before pressing the shaft against his belly with his toes. He caught the head between his big and second toe and pinched gently and Sherlock whimpered and shook, now only mouthing at the tip of John's cock helplessly.

"If I let you fuck me again, will you be good?" John teased, riding high on the thrill of holding Sherlock in his power. When Sherlock nodded eagerly John clamped his prick tighter, forcing Sherlock to drop John's cock entirely to strangle on his own breath. "You'll do exactly what I tell you?"

"Yes, John, yes," he whispered eagerly.

Grinning now, John released Sherlock and lifted his legs so his hole was presented. "Get up here then," he purred and Sherlock scrambled up, no longer graceful but more like an awkward, long legged colt.

"John, please," Sherlock begged when his dick was poised against John. 

"Slow," John warned and Sherlock nodded and jerkily inched forward. It seemed to take forever for the plump head of his prick to slide inside and then even longer before Sherlock was encased in John. This time it felt good though and when Sherlock gingerly lay down +39on top of John his warm belly rubbed against John's prick and his curly head nestled on his shoulder. "Slow," John encouraged again and Sherlock began to gently rock into John, barely withdrawing before nudging back in. John happily wrapped his arms around his shoulders while Sherlock puffed and cried softly into his ear. 

"That's so good, Sherlock," he whispered encouragingly, running his hands soothingly up and down Sherlock's long flanks. "You feel so fucking good."

Sherlock seemed beyond speech, only whining against John while his hips moved ponderously. He wanted to fuck hard, John could feel it in every tight, shaking muscle in his body. He wanted to plow into him, furious and brutal, take his pleasure fast. The fact that selfish, often cruel Sherlock restrained himself and respected John's boundaries made the last of John's resentment melt away. 

"Ok, fast now," he said and Sherlock drew back to search his face. John grinned and reached down to slap his ass hard. "Fuck me, Sherlock!"

Sherlock drew his legs up beneath him for leverage and gave a long, deep thrust experimentally, and when John didn't push him off he smiled hopefully. 

John smiled back and reached up to run his hands over Sherlock's chest. "Put your hands on my thighs," he instructed and Sherlock eagerly did, pressing his weight against the back of John's knees and making him curl up so that his arse was pinned beneath Sherlock's pounding hips. It wasn't comfortable, but Sherlock's rapturous expression made it all worth it. 

He watched John's face raptly while his hips pushed sharply into John, tunneling his prick in deep. John's toes, somewhere around Sherlock's ears, curled when his prostate was stimulated occasionally. The sensation wasn't consistent- they could build up to that, but it was far better than John had expected and it was clear Sherlock was almost mindless with pleasure. Even though his eyes remained trained on John they had turned glassy and his mouth had fallen open on his whooping gasps. His arms were shaking where they held John apart and the sounds he made had John grappling down to grab his own cock and pull desperately. 

Sherlock thrusts became lightning fast, shallow little jabs that pulled his sensitive head quickly through the tight muscles near John's rim. When he accidentally pulled out too far and his dick slipped out Sherlock practically howled in frustration when pushing his prick irrationally against John's hole only made it stick and then slide away.

John chuckled breathlessly and reached down to help, but the second his hand was on him Sherlock became frenzied, his cock ramming through John's loose hold and his breath turning into sobs. "John, John!" Sherlock cried out almost in alarm and John reflexively tightened his grasp to give him what he needed. Sherlock drew up on one knee and frantically fucked his fist, his face drawn tight with concentration. He gave one last long, desperate groan and came as though it were punched out of him, great long gushes that made John's hand sloppy and wet and made Sherlock's whole body spasm in time with his prick. Sherlock finally stilled and breathed hard, his whole body shuddering above John while John squirmed and thrust his prick into the air, so turned on that a strategic breath of wind could have pushed him over the edge.

Instead Sherlock collapsed and drew himself down his body, swallowing John in one go and sucking viciously. John groaned, back bowing up off the bed and came immediately. He clutched Sherlock's shoulders too hard and not caring. When John released him Sherlock toppled over beside him. Neither spoke for a long while.

"Fucking hell, that was fantastic," John finally said giddily on a long exhale. He was sticky, wrung out and beginning to feel the effects of the thorough fucking, but his whole body was alive with satisfaction.

Sherlock nodded slowly beside him. "I don't know why I waited so long. I should have done that a long time ago," he said musingly and when John shot him a sharp glare one side of Sherlock's mouth tipped up fondly. "With you, I meant. We should have been doing that from the first night I met you. Idiot." 

John, feeling fuzzy and happy, rolled over on his side so his face was beside Sherlock's. "Yeah?"

Sherlock grinned now and copied the movement, bringing their lips together softly, intimately. "It was you I was waiting for, John."


End file.
